


A Bolt of Blue

by Starlinghue



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/F, Falling In Love, Hopper being a Good Dad, Hurt/Comfort, Psychic Flirtatation, Queer Characters, Supernatural Elements, post high school graduation, underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 07:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlinghue/pseuds/Starlinghue
Summary: In the summer after their high school graduation, Jane breaks up with Mike. She finds an unlikely friend in Max, but when they begin experiencing surreal meetings in the void, Jane realizes that she's going to have to confront the complicated nature of their relationship.





	A Bolt of Blue

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the New Order song, "Bizare Love Triangle" which makes a brief cameo in the fic. I hope you can enjoy this story of second chances, second loves, and self discovery of the psychic degree.

_July, 1990_

Jane was sitting alone on Sattler Quarry's pebbled beach when Max found her. Knees drawn to her chest and her face buried in her arms, Jane knew it was Max coming towards her without having to look up. This was not only due to her powers, but the sound of Max's skateboard, familiar, loud and gravelly as it came rolling down from the main road. When Jane eventually lifted her head and turned to look over her shoulder, it was, indeed, Max who was hopping off the board at the edge of the beach and heading in her direction.

"Hey!" She called out with a smile, tilting her head sideways. The way the sunlight caught in her hair at that angle made it look like an open flame.

"Hi, Max." Jane returned her greeting, and sat up a bit straighter. She didn't want to seem any smaller than she felt.

Plunking down to sit at Jane's side, Max didn't waste any time before launching into a conversation. "So, Mike seemed pretty upset when me and the guys went to his place, earlier. He actually kicked me out of his house, you know, _no girls allowed._ Which was fucking weird— he hasn't used that kind of bullshit excuse since we were kids. Judging by how upset he was, I knew that you definitely weren't with him, so I went looking. Figured you might be here."

"Here," Jane echoed, looking away from Max's face. She couldn't handle the way her eyes were glowing with so many unasked questions. "Mike kicked you out?"

"Yeah, the dickhead practically shoved me out the door." Max muttered, "I don't think he wanted me to see that he was crying."

"He was crying?" Jane asked, and her heart sank. This was all her fault.

"I think so," Max sighed, and then she leaned into Jane's personal space, forcing her to meet her gaze. "You two broke up, didn't you?" 

It was annoying how easily Max had been able to put that together. Almost unconsciously, Jane lifted a rock with her mind and sent it skidding across the quarry, the air whistling around them with the force of its speed. Max gave a start, watching as the rock sped against the water's surface, heading directly towards the side of the cliff. When the two smashed together, Max flinched, and Jane's nose grew warm with blood.

For a moment, they were both quiet. Then, as Jane wiped the blood off on her jacket sleeve, Max turned and frowned at her. "I guess I'll take that as a 'yes', then?"

"Yes," said Jane, exasperated. "We broke up."

"Okay," Max seemed to be choosing her next words very carefully. "But why? I mean, you've been together since the beginning, right?"

"That's why," Jane mumbled, uncomfortable with having to explain herself. It had been hard enough to tell Mike why she thought it wouldn't work. "He's all I know."

"You want more experience?" Max frowned, "But you hardly ever looked at any other guys at school. You treated them like they didn't exist."

This was true. Jane had purposefully avoided anyone outside of her group of friends, despite encouragement from several different people that she ought to expand her horizons. It had taken Jane months to adjust to Max's presence in their group, and that had been all the additional socializing that she had cared to attempt in the past six years she'd spent living freely in Hawkins.

"I didn't break up with him because I wanted more _experience._ " Jane explained this as patiently as she could, but was tempted to throw more rocks. "He wanted us to get married. And for me to go to college with him."

There was a moment of heavy silence, and then Max's expression softened instantly. "And you don't want to marry him?"

"No, because it would just be the same as it is now. I'd be waiting for him to come home all the time, sitting around by myself. He'd be happy to have me there but—" Jane cut herself off, worried that Max might think these reasons for breaking up were needlessly selfish.

Instead, Max smiled at her in an uncommonly gentle, and almost reassuring way. "That makes sense. You were worried that you would be stuck playing a part for him, right?"

Surprised at her understanding, Jane nodded. "He wanted me to be _normal_ for him; a wife, maybe a mother. But that's not... that's not me."

_It wasn't him, either._

"No, it's not you." Max agreed, and then they fell into silence again.

It was nice, the quiet. With Mike, there was always talking. He had so much to say, and all Jane could do was listen to him. She used to not to mind it, the listening. Now the idea exhausted her.

Max didn't press Jane for any more answers. Instead, she leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the sky. The sun was dipping low enough to stain the clouds pink, and after a while, Jane copied her pose. Their shoulders brushed against one and other, noticing that Max wasn't wearing a jacket, Jane briefly wondered if she was cold.

It may have been the first time in years that Jane had ever thought about Max like that. As a person with weakness.

 

\---

 

"So," Hopper's voice was too nonchalant, too casual. "You and Mike?"

Jane looked up from the kitchen sink, glancing wearily over her shoulder. Hopper didn't meet her gaze, apparently quite transfixed in his task of drying their spaghetti pot.

Sighing, Jane looked back down at the soapy water resting in the sink. "We aren't together anymore."

"Oh," Hopper said this in an unsurprised way, like he already knew. Jane blamed his stupidly efficient detective skills. "That's too bad."

She shot him a funny look, then, but this time, he was staring back at her. He looked worried. Jane tried to smile for him. "Not really."

"Not really?"

"No," Jane leaned into the sink, thinking of how her relief outweighed her guilt. "Not really."

Beaming, Hopper gave her hair a light ruffle, and nothing more was said on the matter. He was good about things like that.

 

\---

 

The only downside of breaking up with Mike was that, as if by default, Jane had broken up with all the guys.

Lucas and Dustin called her three days afterwards, and they laid out the ground rules:

"Mike's in a bad place right now, so we've gotta be there for him." Lucas explained, "We can't exactly come and check on you right now, you know? I think he's in worse shape, and this is a matter of solidarity."

"I promise, we'll all hang out together once he stops being a wuss about it." Dustin said, obviously uncomfortable with the entire situation. "This really threw our campaign for a loop. And, uh, obviously it sucks that you guys can't make things work."

Jane laughed, weakly, and she told them that she understood. It honestly didn't bother her that they were choosing to remain loyal to Mike. To the others, she had always been an extension of him, and now that that bond had been broken (or, at the very least, wounded) it was only natural that the boys now had no idea how to handle their relationship. They were really Mike's friends, and Jane was no longer a part of him.

As always, Will Byers saw things a bit differently. He came to Jane's house on his own, even though he hated it out there, deep in the woods. It surprised her to see him standing on her porch, late in the evening, with his arms tucked away in his oversized jacket pockets. She hadn't sensed him coming at all, but then again, he had always had a way of sliding under her radar.

"I don't want to stop being friends with you." Will said when she opened the door, getting right to the point. "It's unfair that the guys are shutting you out."

"I hurt Mike," Jane mumbled, "He needs time."

"Yeah, but I don't." Will blew the stray hairs out of his face, "You should still come over for coffee and stuff. My mom likes it."

"Okay," Jane found herself grinning. "I'll come soon."

"Good," Will nodded, and then he looked at his feet. There was more that he wanted to say, but he seemed hesitant to actually get the words out.

Jane had always understood Will better than any of the others. They were both different. Outsiders among the outcasts. They had both been through such horrible things, the kind of stuff that their friends had only ever scraped the surface of in their nightmares.

"Why did you break up with him?" Will finally asked, looking at Jane like she was a mystery. He had never looked at her like that before— he had always understood her the best, too.

"I'm not what he wants," Jane said, and admitting as much felt bittersweet. "I can't keep pretending to be."

Will looked lost for a moment, as he often did. Sometimes it was like he faded into a faraway place, somewhere not even Jane's mind could reach him. Then just like that, he was back, smiling and shaking his head.

"Mike's the most amazing person in this entire town."

"I know."

"You were lucky to be his first love."

"I know."

Will sighed, looking behind him, into the forest. "Walk me back to the road?"

They walked in silence, but Jane could see that Will's eyes were watering. He was always the most sensitive of the group; he was even smaller than the others, and skinny as ever. His hair was long and shaggy, like his brother's had been, and sometimes he wore it in a little knot at the back of his head.

"I'd never break up with him," Will muttered, so quiet that Jane may as well have imagined it.

She glanced at him sideways, understanding immediately. In a way, she had always known. "I couldn't keep lying to him."

"Yeah," said Will, and for his sake, Jane ignored the tears sliding off his cheeks. "It's better this way. For both of you."

As they reached the last of the trees, Jane couldn't help herself. She reached for Will's arm, not quite grabbing him, but the touch was at least enough to get him to stop and stare at her. 

"What?" Will asked, and he looked afraid. Not nearly as scared as he had been the first time she met him, but afraid enough that Jane pitied him. Just a little bit.

"You should tell Mike. He won't care."

Startled, Will jerked his arm away. "Tell Mike _what_ , exactly? That I've had a crush on him since the third grade? That I've been trying to get over him for, what, nine years?"

"Yes," Jane blinked, "Tell him that. He needs to hear it."

"No he doesn't!" Will squawked, "He absolutely does not need to hear any of that, not ever."

"Tell him," Jane repeated, "Trust me."

Will still looked quite distrustful.

Jane rolled her eyes and put her hands on his shoulders, trying her best to steady him.

"He always talks about you. Always. More than Star Wars."

"More than Star Wars?" Will's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Really?"

"Yeah," Jane smiled, "He was so worried when you were dating Catherine, it was awful. He complained about it every day."

"Well, she was terrible." Will murmured, and then his entire face lit up. "You think he was jealous?"

"He once got so mad you were going on a date with her that he threw all his campaign notes in the trash."

"Oh, wow." Will's cheeks were going red, "You're not messing with me, are you?"

Jane frowned, "Friends don't lie."

"Friends don't lie," Will repeated, mystified. "Okay. I'll tell him."

"Not too soon." Jane warned him, "Right now, he needs things to be about him."

Will nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Got it, I'll tell him when he's feeling better. Might take months. Years, even."

Frowning disapprovingly, Jane was actually quite happy when Will grinned back at her. He knew that she knew, and maybe she was the first person he'd ever revealed that part of himself to. Jane hoped someday he would be comfortable enough with his feelings to tell Mike.

Once she lifted her hands from his shoulders, Will turned and walked away, still smiling. Jane watched him until he had gotten safely to his car, which he had parked at the side of the road. It wasn't until Jane saw Will's headlights bobbing around the corner and out of sight that she finally felt the weight of everything that had just happened.

Was it a betrayal of Mike's trust? There had been times where he had whispered secrets to her, confessions about his childhood, and the way he used to think about other boys. The way he still couldn't help but stare at Will a little longer than he needed to. When she broke up with Mike, he had asked, horrified, if that was one of the reasons why, and Jane had to get down on her knees, had to hold Mike's face in her hands and explain that no, it absolutely was _not._

That might have been a lie.

From the beginning, since stumbling upon each other on that cold, rainy night in the woods, Jane had been a replacement. A substitute. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin had all gone looking for their friend, and instead, they found her. She was incredibly grateful for that, for the boys and their botched attempt at rescuing her. Even all of their initial distrust and mutual misunderstandings didn't matter once she was _safe_ and _fed._ It hadn't bothered Jane at all that Mike had been desperately latching onto her for attention because he was scared. His best friend was missing, and she was there in his place, mostly mute, mysterious and, in a way, just as lost as Will. At the time, Jane had no way of knowing the reason why Mike had become so quickly attached to her, and because he had been her savior, it was only natural that she grew equally attached to him.

And then Jane helped Mike find Will, killed a monster to protect him, and suddenly the foundation of her newly found happiness was knocked out from under her. She spent the better half of the next year resenting the fact that she had been separated from her friends, and most of all, from Mike. This was one of the lowest points of her past, and she absolutely hated how it had affected her. Jane was embarrassed at how she had lost so much control because of her feelings for one person. She had never had friends before Mike, and the experience of being unable to talk to him had been _torture_ after she had already grown so fiercely dependent on him.

Sometimes, Jane thought about that day she saw him in the middle school gymnasium. He was with Max, a stranger to Jane at the time. This stranger was skating circles around Mike and they were both _smiling._ Jane had envied Max more than anything in that one moment, simply because she seemed so _normal_ compared to her. It disgusted Jane now, thinking of how she had reached out her mind and pushed Max to the ground. That had been petty, and completely unjustified. It had been raw, unfiltered anger. It was the reason she couldn't take Max's hand, days later, in Will's living room. She was ashamed, confused, and angry.

Max was a normal girl, a girl who had grown up in the real world. Jane had hated her for that.

Now, alone in the woods, Jane focused her mind on Max. She lived on the other side of town, but it was easy to filter through the rest of Hawkins and find her. In the dark, reflective void, her hair flickered in and out of focus, just like fire. Jane reached for her, but was careful not to make any contact. She had never spoken to Max through her mind before, and Jane didn't know how she would react. 

Max was currently working in her garage, fixing up the busted Chevy that her stepfather had planned on throwing away. He told Max if she could fix it she could keep it, and Max had already fixed it, she just had to go about making sure that it stayed fixed. Jane watched her for a moment, working on a number of gears under the car's hood that Jane had never bothered to try and understand.

It surprised her when Max looked up, suddenly, and glanced at the empty space that Jane's mind was currently occupying. Several seconds passed, and Max continued to stare at absolutely nothing in her garage, maybe unaware, possibly very aware, that she was being watched. 

Experimentally, Jane held out her hand, wondering if Max could even conceptualize her that far. She had always been the one to make first contact through the void, and the thought of being seen before making a direct move was wonderfully terrifying.

Max's eyes fell to the space between their hands, and her gloved fingers found Jane's and made a valiant attempt to hold on.

"You can see me?" Jane asked, and the vision dissipated, because Max was so surprised to hear her voice that both her mind and body had reeled away in shock.

Just like that, Jane was sent plummeting back to the woods. Slightly dazed, she made her way home, and didn't even notice that there was blood dripping down her chin until she absently reached up to rub at her nose.

 

\---

 

The next morning, Max called her.

"Did you do that mind-radio thing with me last night? Were you in my garage? Or am I going insane?"

"I was there," Jane replied, and her heart leapt a bit realizing that Max really had seen her. "That's never happened before. You saw me before I even touched you."

Max made a sound that might have been a laugh or a cough, "I didn't see you, exactly. More like I _felt_ you. It was weird, it was like you were standing right next to me but you were still completely invisible."

Jane's grip on the telephone tightened, and she used the sound of Max's breathing to ease her into the static.

Max was in her bedroom, holding a bulky, portable phone. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, and her hair was up in a messy, orange bun. Since it was fairly early, she was still in her pajamas. Jane stared at her, waiting to be acknowledged.

It only took a few seconds, and then Max lifted her gaze from the floor, staring right at Jane's face.

"Are you... in my room, right now?"

"Yes," Jane responded, full of wonder. "Can you see me?"

"Oh, _weird_." Max laughed, looking in the direction of the projection of Jane's mind. "I can't exactly see you, but I can hear you through the phone, and directly in my head, like an echo."

"But you can feel me here, right?"

"Yeah," Max stood up, crossing the room and standing directly in front of the projection of Jane's mind. "I can feel you."

Reflexively, Jane lifted her hand, letting it hover just over Max's shoulder. Max seemed to take notice of this phantom sensation, and she stepped backwards so that her real hand could find Jane's mental one.

The connection didn't cut off, as it usually did when Jane made direct contact. It didn't even waver.

"I can _feel_ you," Max murmured, and then she met Jane's eyes and grinned. "Dude, how awesome is this?"

"Awesome," Jane repeated, amazed. "I've never held it this long while touching something."

Max started to flicker, then. "Is this dangerous?"

"Maybe," Jane half-shrugged, "I have no idea."

"Okay. We should stop, for now." Max said, and though she was still smiling, her reluctance made it harder and harder for Jane to hold on to her mind.

Vanishing like a plume of smoke, Jane lost sight of Max entirely, and was soon staring, once again, at her own wooden wall. The phone was tight in Jane's hand, but whatever Max was saying to her was momentarily garbled with radio interference, and Jane's own ringing ears.

"We should keep it a secret," Max was saying once the buzzing cleared. "It might make the guys jealous, you know, the two of us having telepathic conversations."

Jane agreed with her, thinking of how Mike would probably feel. He had never known when Jane had been watching him, and it would only add salt to the wound if he found out that Max, of all people, could inexplicably perceive her.

"It's strange that you can see me." Jane said, "No one ever has before."

Max laughed, "Hey, maybe I'm a psychic, too. I've always a knack for picking things up fast, that could be some kind of gift. Not as cool as being able to flip a car without lifting a finger, though."

"No," Jane smiled, "But at least you don't get nosebleeds."

As if right on cue, some blood trickled over her lip. Jane hurriedly grabbed some tissues before her shirt could get stained.

"Okay, true. Oh, and now that I think about it, why were you watching me in my garage, anyway?" Max asked, and though her tone was light, Jane got the feeling that she was worried something might have been wrong.

"I was thinking about you," Jane said, deciding there was no point in not being honest. "And about how I treated you when we were kids. I was a jerk."

"Please, that was forever ago." Max said with a sigh, "You had a lot of shit to deal with, back then. I wasn't helping you adjust by being the new kid on the block, asking you all those stupid questions. I understand why you weren't ready to trust me right off the bat, considering what happened to you."

"Still," Jane mumbled, "I was mean, and I know I hurt you. I'm sorry."

Max took a deep breath, and Jane tried to imagine the expression she was making. She hoped it wasn't one of disbelief. After a beat, Max spoke with a softness Jane wasn't used to hearing, "It's okay, Jane, really."

 _Jane._ Max was the only one of her friends who ever called her that. She was still _El_ to Mike and the others. Even Hopper still called her by that name, one that had never really been hers.

But Max seemed to understand that the number Eleven had so much pain attached to it. When Jane reintroduced herself to the group, it was Max, the person who she had not once treated kindly, that had ended up being the most respectful about it. Max, who hadn't called her 'El' once since that day.

"Hey," Max said, "Do you want to hang out with me, later?"

"Yeah," Jane smiled into the receiver, "I do."

"Cool, I'll come pick you up this afternoon. Maybe we can go see that new movie, y'know, the one with Patrick Swayze? I think he's a ghost? Or maybe the movie is just called 'Ghost', I honestly can't remember."

Jane laughed lightly, "Okay, sure. That sounds like fun."

A few hours later, Max was halfway up the porch steps when Jane hurried outside to meet her. Max had decided to keep her hair up, and was wearing once of her nicer blue shirts, the one that made her eyes really stand out. 

"Pretty," said Jane, without thinking.

Thankfully, Max only laughed, her cheeks dusting pink. "Thanks, you're not looking so bad, yourself."

As they made their way to the main road, Jane realized that she was actually quite happy to see her. Being with Max after their encounters in the void made everything seem so surreal and peaceful. Jane wondered if Max felt that way, too.

The movie turned out to be called Ghost, after all, and, quite fittingly, Patrick Swayze _was_ the ghost.

"He's kind of like you," Max whispered, in the practically empty movie theatre. "He can see everyone else, but they can't see him. Like your telepathic thing."

"Does that make you like her?" Jane asked, gesturing to Whoopi Goldberg's character onscreen. "Can you see ghosts?"

"No," Max murmured, "Just you."

"Maybe you're psychic," Jane suggested, "But only with me."

Max turned to look at her, carefully. "What if it's all you, though? What if the reason I can see you is because you _want_ me to see you?"

Jane hadn't thought about that. It made sense, in a way, that the connection was being bridged by her own mind before she even knew it was happening. She had reached out in different ways before, and had no way of knowing the difference, because it never felt like she was doing something new. This, whatever it was, felt new. Maybe Jane had been hoping, all along, that Max would look up.

"You could be right," Jane said, quietly. "I think that I wanted you to know that I was there. I wanted you to see me."

Max smiled, small and crooked. "I do see you, Jane."

"I know," Jane whispered, and she smiled back.

They might have stared at each other for a moment too long, because a flush of pink started crawling up Max's cheeks and she quickly turned her attention back to the screen. Jane did the same, but could not seem to fight the fluttery feeling rising in her chest. In the end, it stayed with her until the credits finally started to roll.

 

\---

 

For the next few weeks, Max and Jane hung out together almost every day. They usually walked around the woods, Max talking idly, if she had anything new to say, and Jane adding her own comments here and there. Most days, they were quiet, simply enjoying the warm weather, and the comfort of each other's company.

Jane learned that Max wasn't planning on going to college, either. When she asked why, Max had shrugged, muttered something about money, and didn't elaborate any further. There was obviously more to it than what she was letting on, but Jane didn't press her for answers. She knew that Max would tell her if she wanted to.

One late Sunday afternoon, when the sky was particularly bright, Max suggested that they go swimming in the quarry. By the time she had this idea, they had already walked a fair distance from Jane's house, and it would have been easier to continue going forward instead of doubling back for swimsuits and towels.

They ended up swimming in their shorts and t-shirts, laughing and splashing at each other the entire time. While they floated at the shallower end of the beach, Max sighed. "I wish we had been better friends, before all of this."

"Me too," Jane admitted, and Max grinned at her before ducking her head in the water.

They spent the rest of the afternoon swimming, laughing, and floating in comfortable silence. Hanging out with Max was as easy and as natural as breathing, and Jane wished she could take back all of that childhood resentment and trade it for feelings like this. She wished she could have known how fun Max could be instead of hating her for no real reason.

"I'm going to California," Max confessed, once they had made their way back to shore. She was ringing the water out her hair, staring at her feet almost as if she were ashamed of herself. "I'm moving at the end of August. I'm going to live with my Dad for a bit, and then maybe I'll go to a school closer to him, next year."

Jane felt a pang of disappointment, but after a moment of consideration, she realized that she was actually quite happy for her friend. Max wasn't safe in Hawkins, with her stepfather always waiting for her to slip up, and the constant fighting with her mother. It made sense that she wanted to get away from it all.

"What's it like there?" Jane asked, careful not to show any signs of sadness. She couldn't blame Max for leaving Hawkins, but it still kind of hurt that she was leaving _her._

"California?" Max smiled, a bit weakly. "It's so nice, Jane. It's warm, and sunny, and my Dad's apartment is only a fifteen minute walk from the ocean. I'll finally get to surf again!"

"You surf? I thought that was a rumor Lucas started."

"I definitely surf. Lucas was just a dweeb about it when I told him."

"A dweeb that you dated," Jane reminded her, and Max rolled her eyes. "Why did you two ever break up?"

Something clouded over Max's face, then. Her smile fell, and her shoulders stiffened. Apparently, Jane had asked the wrong question.

"I liked someone else," Max said, reluctantly meeting Jane's gaze. "I was too scared to admit it, though, so I told Lucas that I just wanted to be friends. He was happy enough with that."

They were standing on the shore of the lake, now, with their clothes still dripping. Jane knew she was pushing her luck, but the way Max's expression had changed so quickly was making her unbearably curious.

Jane's next question came blurting out before she could stop herself from asking. "Who was it?"

For a long, awkward moment, Max remained silent. The flash of shock and pain on her face made it look almost as if she'd been slapped. Before Jane could apologize, Max closed her eyes, forcefully turning away from her.

She crossed her arms, and made a noise that might have been a laugh or a sob. "Maybe it was easier, all of this, when we weren't really friends."

"Max," said Jane, trying to understand what she meant. "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me."

Turning back to face her, Max quickly shook her head. It startled Jane to see that Max's eyes were watering. Jane had never seen her cry. "No! No, don't apologize. It's not your fault. It's never been your fault."

And just like that, Jane understood.

"It was me," she said, breathlessly. "You liked _me._ "

Max inhaled a long, shaky breath, and after another lengthy silence, she made a rather pathetic attempt at laughing. "I told you, it was easier to deal with all of this when we weren't friends."

Jane felt her stomach churn, "Was I wrong?"

"No," Max mumbled, "You weren't."

Not knowing how to respond to that, Jane took a clumsy step forwards, holding her arms out with vague hopes for hug. After a brief moment of surprise, Max took the bait, and hesitantly, she weaved her arms around around Jane's shoulders, resting her head in the crook of her neck.

It was bizarre. They had never hugged before. Not to mention that their clothes were still wet, so they were kind of haphazardly sticking together. Max was also on the brink of sobbing, which wasn't really helping the overall awkwardness of the situation.

But it was also kind of nice. They were close enough to feel each other's heartbeats. Jane reached up and began petting Max's damp hair, still at a loss for words. She had only ever been liked— at least, in the romantic sense— by one person. Jane had never thought about anyone else that way, except for Mike. And she still didn't even know if what she had with him had even been real or not.

"I don't want to stop being friends," Jane said, finally. At her words, she felt Max relax under her touch, felt the relief radiating off of her.

"I don't want to stop being friends with you, either." Max confessed, her voice hoarse.

 _Even if it would be easier,_ was a thought that passed through both of them, and yet remained unsaid.

Shortly afterwards, they broke apart, and then they walked home. It seemed like they had mutually agreed, without saying anything, that they weren't going talk about what had just happened. Still, Jane's stomach felt hollowed and heavy, and she couldn't help it when her gaze flickered back to Max every two seconds, to make sure she was still there, and that she wasn't crying. Somewhere along the road, Jane gave into impulse and reached for Max's hand, just so they could both have something to hold. Neither of them wanted to be the first to let go, so they ended up holding hands until they came to the long, narrow end of Max's driveway.

 

\---

 

"Have you ever loved a man?" Jane sprung this particular question on Hopper a few days later, and at a rather inconvenient moment; he was halfway through swallowing a spoonful of his chili, and was caught so off guard that he choked.

By the time he had finally stopped spluttering, and Jane had apologetically wiped up the stray bits of food that he had coughed out on the table, Hopper's expression had grown quite pensive. He mulled over her question for at least five minutes, and at first, Jane didn't know if it was because he was still processing, or if he had gone into a state of shock after the chili incident.

"I had a friend," Hopper said, at last, meaningfully clearing his throat. "In Chicago. He was a good friend. I would say that I loved him, for a while."

"Romantically?" Jane asked, and after a beat, Hopper shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, and his voice was soft, the way it got sometimes when he talked about his past. "I don't think so. Why are you so curious about that, all of a sudden? Is this about Will?"

Jane blinked, leaning back in her seat. "You know about Will?"

"Kiddo," Hopper said gently, "Almost everyone knows about Will. Jesus, those jackasses at your old school would have torn him apart if Joyce wasn't so terrifying."

"I protected him," Jane said defensively, "If they were ever mean, I pushed them."

"Good," Hopper grinned, his eyes dancing with approval. "But you didn't answer my question. What brought on the sudden curiosity about my love life?"

"I just wanted to know if a person can love both men and women," Jane explained, deciding it was better to be upfront about this. "Or can you only love one or the other?"

Hopper looked at her, raising his brows, and then he chuckled. "I don't think it's as simple as that. Everyone's different, El. If you like guys, you like guys. If you like girls, you like girls. You can like both. Or you can choose not to like anybody. All that matters is that it makes you happy, and that you stay safe."

"Safe," Jane echoed, smiling as she reached for her spoon. "You always tell me to stay safe every time I ask you for advice."

Raising his hands in surrender, Hopper's grin was gentle. "Only because you seem to have a habit of getting yourself into trouble."

Grinning back at him, Jane was happy enough to spend the rest of dinner in companionable silence. After washing the dishes, Hopper settled down on the couch and tuned into a spaghetti western marathon that was playing on one of the local stations. Jane curled up next to him, and it wasn't until the movie had reached one of the slower parts before the inevitable final showdown, when she found that she could no longer keep herself quiet.

"How do you know when you love someone?" she asked, careful not to look Hopper in the eye. Jane was hoping to spare them both the embarrassment of this conversation.

"You just know," Hopper mumbled, rubbing his neck. "It should feel easy, like everything makes sense."

"Different from me and Mike, then." Jane murmured, pulling her knees up to her chest. "It was always confusing, with him."

Hopper brought his hand up to ruffle her hair, and Jane appreciated the familiarity of the gesture. "You two were just kids when you started out. Hell, you didn't even know what you were signing up for, being in love."

"I just wanted to be _normal,_ " Jane confessed, covering her face with her hands so that Hopper wouldn't see it, if she started to cry. "But I'm not. I couldn't even love him the way that I was supposed to."

Bringing his arm around her shoulders, Hopper wordlessly pulled Jane into a lopsided hug. She was reminded instantly Max, and how her heart had been beating against her own like a drum.

"You're not broken just because you didn't get it right, the first time." Hopper's voice interrupted her thoughts, calm and reassuring. "Mike's just the tip of the iceberg. There's a whole world out there, and it's full of people who did a hell of a worse than you with their first relationships."

"Really?" Jane asked, and she hated how weak she sounded.

"Absolutely," Hopper scoffed, "I mean, look at me, for example. I'm pushing fifty and I'm still breaking hearts."

Jane laughed, "You're not _that_ bad."

"Neither are you," Hopper sighed, and he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "So don't blame yourself for being a bit confused. Everyone else feels that way, pretty much all the damn time. Some people are just better at pretending."

Jane uncovered her face and hugged him back, then. If Hopper was good at anything, it was knowing just what to say when she felt like the world was imploding around her.

They watched two movies in a row, after that, Hopper falling asleep around midnight, and Jane using her head to skim through the channels and absorb as much as she could, knowing the static wouldn't bother him when he was unconscious. It was nearly two in the morning when Jane finally prodded him in the side, and ushered him towards his room so he could get a proper sleep.

Before retreating to his bed, he reached out and gave her curls a ruffle. "G'night, kiddo." 

"Goodnight," Jane said, softly, and she had never cared about anyone as much as she cared about him, her not-quite father, in that moment.

She thought about what he had said for a long time, afterwards. Maybe other people were just better at pretending. Maybe everyone felt just as messed up, and broken as she did.

The next day, she visited the Byers.

It was early in the morning, before Joyce's first shift at the store. When she answered the door and found Jane standing there, her entire face lit up, like Jane was exactly the person she had wanted to see there. That was one of the things Jane liked most about Joyce; she was always, no matter how crazy the circumstances, overwhelmingly glad to see her.

They chatted over coffee at the kitchen table, Joyce peppering Jane with the usual _How've you been?_ and _How's Hop holding up?_ and the more obvious, _So are you enjoying the summer?_

Jane answered all her questions politely, and smiled when Joyce finally broke into her own ramblings about crazy customers, calls from Jonathan, and her attempts to quit smoking. She was halfway through an animated tale about an old man looking for baby formula when suddenly her eyes lit up, and she gasped.

"What?" Jane asked, curiously leaning forwards. Joyce's grin was suddenly wider than ever.

"I shouldn't tell you," Joyce giggled, ominously. "I really shouldn't, it's too early to tell anyone."

Jane gave her a look, hard and judgmental, and eventually, Joyce cracked.

"Nancy's pregnant! Jonathan hasn't married her yet, but he's sure as hell going to, now. She's two months in."

Jane was suddenly dizzy, "She's having a baby?"

"She might be, it's so early, anything can happen. But hopefully, yes, I'll be a grandmother." Joyce laughed, holding her face in her hands delightedly. "I didn't know if Jonathan would ever want kids, you know? The divorce was so hard on him, he used to say he would never settle down. But he sounded so excited when I talked to him, the other night. He's going to be a dad!"

Just then, Will walked into the kitchen. His hair was sticking up on side and flattened on the other, obviously having just rolled out of bed. Joyce covered her mouth in embarrassment, knowing that he had definitely overheard her. However, Will was smiling, brighter than ever.

"I'm gonna be an uncle!" Will laughed, "That's great, Mom, we should tell Nancy that we're happy for her."

"No, no, you're not even supposed to know." Joyce shook her head, but she was still laughing, overly giddy. "You can't tell Mike, either. It's too soon!"

"That's going to be kind of hard," Will's grin faltered, and seeing Jane, his expression instantly grew apologetic. "He's in the bathroom."

It was like a bucket of ice had been dumped over Jane's entire body, and she was filled, instantly, with the sinking sensation of dread. Horrified, she wanted to get up and run out the door, and through the woods, as fast as she possibly could, but she was glued to her seat.

"He's _what?_ When did he get here?" Joyce snapped, scrambling to her feet. "You can't have friends sneaking over without me knowing about it, honey, you know that."

Will raised his hands defensively. "He came by last night, when you were already asleep. I thought it'd be okay!"

"Sorry Mrs. Byers," Mike's familiar, quiet voice came cutting through the room as he stepped out of the hallway. "I was going to go home last night, really, but it was late. So I chickened out and crashed on the floor."

"Oh," Joyce relaxed, smiling patiently. "It's not a problem, Mike, I'd really just rather know when people are staying over. Wake me up next time, okay?"

"Okay," Mike repeated, and then his eyes fell on Jane, who had remained frozen in her seat throughout this entire exchange.

There was a long, terrible moment, where Jane thought that Mike might just ignore her entirely. In his face, she saw flashes of all the pain she had caused him. Heart in her throat, Jane couldn't think of what it was that she could say to fix whatever had shattered between them. Maybe there was nothing to say, at all, and this silence would last forever, with Mike staring at her coldly from across the Byers' kitchen.

But soon, the moment was over, and Mike was smiling at her. Soft, a little crooked, but a smile nonetheless. They were going to talk. He was going to let her talk.

"Mike," Jane spoke first, but his name was the only word she could manage before her throat closed up again. She hoped he would understand.

His smile remained small, still a little forced, but he acknowledged her all the same. "Hey, El. How've you been?"

"I've," Jane started to say, but it was still so hard to find the strength to speak to him without apologizing. "I've been worse."

"Yeah," Mike laughed, just a little fake. "I've been worse, too."

It felt like a weight was being lifted off her chest, and with newfound strength, Jane got to her feet. Mike made his way towards her, almost cautiously. He was wearing Will's pajamas, and the shirt was a little too tight, and the pants a little too loose, but he looked great, anyway because he was _Mike._ Jane hugged him because she had to, she hugged him because he was her best friend and she had _missed_ him.

They didn't fit together quite right, anymore. Jane could feel the depth of the distance between them, even as Mike's arms came around her waist and pulled her in tight, like he always had. They had changed, and even if it was for the better, it still made Jane ache for what they used to have, whatever it had been, because now there was no going back. Right now, they were both ready to let go.

Will cleared his throat, and Jane laughed, embarrassed, as Mike pulled back. He looked almost guilty, shuffling on his feet and exchanging a meaningful glance across the kitchen with Will that Jane knew she would never be able to decipher. When Mike turned back to her, he asked, "Can we talk?" and Jane couldn't refuse. She thanked Joyce for the coffee, and then they headed outside to sit on the porch steps.

It was a long time before Mike spoke. He was staring out at the trees, his expression unreadable. Jane counted his freckles, out of habit, while she waited for him to work up the courage to say whatever it was he needed to say.

"You're my best friend," Mike said, finally, and he then bowed his head low. Whether he was ashamed or embarrassed, Jane couldn't tell. "I want you to be in my life, even if you're not the biggest part of it."

"I'll always be in your life," Jane whispered, taking his hand in hers. His fingers were bony, his palm familiar and warm, but it didn't make her heart skip a beat. It didn't make her feel like she was holding something precious. "You're my best friend, too. My first friend"

"I was your first everything," Mike mumbled, nearly laughing, because it was a joke they had shared before. "And you were mine."

"No," Jane sighed, "I wasn't all of your firsts, Mike."

He lifted his head up then, and she wondered if he had already known, if he had known from the very beginning that she was only a stand-in for something he had wanted, but didn't think he could have. When he looked at her, Jane knew, deep down, that he had always been aware of this, and how it would end.

That didn't make it hurt any less.

"What do I do?" Mike asked, his voice broken, and his hand trembling in her grip. "What should I say?"

"The truth," Jane held his hand tighter, hoping it would stop shaking. "Tell him the truth."

Mike laughed for real, this time, and it was frazzled, anxious, and desperate. He gave Jane's hand a tight squeeze, like he didn't know what else to do with it, and then he stopped laughing.

"Friends don't lie." Mike muttered, soberly, and Jane knew it was time to let go of his hand.

They stood up together, Mike dusting off his pants, Jane tucking her hair behind her ears. A month ago, he might've kissed her, then, just for the hell of it. But that kind of affection was long behind them, and if Mike was about to kiss anyone on the Byers' front porch, it certainly wasn't going to be Jane.

"Mike," she said, stopping him in his tracks before he could disappear back into the house. "Good luck."

He smiled at her, and there was forgiveness in it, and Jane wished she could say anything more than what she already had, but she knew that this would be enough. His happiness would always be enough.

"Come by with Max next Friday," Mike's smile grew even fonder, "We'll either pick up the campaign again, or get crazy drunk. Should be fun either way, right?."

"Yeah," Jane grinned, "We'll be there."

 _We._ Her and Max. That was a whole other mess that Jane had to deal with. She was starting to realize that one cup of coffee hadn't been enough to prepare her for the day.

"Good," Mike nodded, and with that, he opened the door and stepped inside. After a moment, he added, "See you later, El."

"Later," Jane echoed, knowing he had meant it, and that he really did want to see her.

Walking home, Jane felt, for the first time in weeks, as if she were truly free. In fact, she was so certain that no one was watching her, that she used her powers to push her body upwards, in a soaring leap, as she went running towards the forest. Her mood had improved so significantly that she didn't even think of Max, of how awkward it would be to see her again, of all the things that she wanted to say to her. She didn't think of Mike, and all the things he would be saying to Will. Alone, running seamlessly through the woods, Jane thought of absolutely nothing of all.

 

\---

 

In her dreams, the void found its way to her. It always did, creeping slowly, at first, through Jane's stream of consciousness, until she could no longer tell if she was was truly asleep, and was wandering endlessly through reflective nothingness. Most nights she only reached as far as Hopper, in the other room, snoring, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. There were others where she had seen Will, always awake, staring out his bedroom window with a set jaw. Waiting. Joyce pacing and holding an unlit cigarette in the next room.

On one particularly memorable occasion, she found her way to Lucas Dustin, and Steve, all three of them drunk and crying while watching _The Facts of Life_ in Dustin's living room. Another night she had seen Mike, in his underwear, singing loudly and off key to a song that Nancy used to love. And sometimes, she actually saw Nancy, beautiful as ever, the wind in her hair and the open road behind her. Jonathan was always at her side, his arm around her shoulder, and his camera around his neck. Jane always felt like she was intruding on them, on quieter evenings spent in their cramped apartment in New York. She knew they didn't think anyone was watching, when they lay together on their small, blue couch, foreheads touching and hands up each other's shirts, just breathing together and not expecting anything more.

Jane had even seen Kali, once or twice. Never her whole face, just the shape of her, in Boston, or Maine. Her sister, still hunting, still hurting, still moving too fast for Jane to get a good look a her. A small part of Jane hoped that one day, Kali would slow down. One day she'd turn around and make butterflies and flowers burst through Jane's mind, pushing all the terrible things that were eating away at her with one sharp flick of her wrist.

In dreams, Jane didn't see the monsters. She felt them, though, hissing and clawing on the underside of the void, trying desperately to tear holes through the reality she had both opened and closed for them. It was easy to ignore them, most of the time, but some nights, the screams were so thick, and so agonizing, that Jane woke up sweating and bleeding, with her head feeling like it was about to burst from pain, and she could never get back to sleep.

Tonight, however, was not one of those nights. The void was quiet, vast, and infinite. Jane could've been walking for hours, she could've been walking for seconds. In the darkness, it was hard to tell.

And then she saw Max, who was also walking through the nothingness, just a few paces ahead of her. She was wearing a tank top and pajama shorts, her hair spilling over her pale, freckled shoulders, as radiant and as orange as ever. She smiled when she noticed Jane staring at her, and it was welcoming enough that Jane jogged towards her, eager for the company.

"So this is weird," Max said, gesturing around them. "It's empty, but at the same time, there's a reflective surface? It feels like I'm at the bottom of the ocean."

"The void," Jane elaborated, and Max raised her eyebrows. "Are you awake, right now?"

"No," Max answered, blinking. "I was at home, in bed. I fell asleep, might have dreamed about surfing, and then I was here, walking."

"Here," Jane repeated, "With me."

"In the void," Max said, in a dubious, almost musical way. "Spooky."

"Spooky," Jane agreed, "I think I might have pulled you in."

Max seemed unbothered by this, and shot Jane a grin. "Were you looking for me?"

"Maybe," Jane replied, because she honestly had no idea. "I never see you, when I come here. I don't think I ever even looked for you until that first time, in your garage."

"Why don't you look for me?" Max tilted her head sideways, "Were you intentionally blocking me out?"

"Yes," Jane answered too quickly, and then realized her mistake. "I mean— I don't know."

"You don't know?" Max rolled her eyes, and gave Jane's arm a light shove. "That's _hilarious._ You were ignoring me, I know you were. You ignored me through most of high school, and fuck it, Jane, I think I deserve to know why!"

Her eyes were glowing, then, bright blue with flecks of green, and filled with a mix of emotions that Jane wasn't prepared to face. Anger, resentment, and something else, something so much stronger than that. Finally, it was too much, all of it, and Jane could feel herself beginning to accept the words that were about to come tumbling out of her.

"I was afraid of you," Jane admitted, and it cut through the void like a knife, the reality of it all becoming whole in both of their minds. "You were so normal, Max. You were beautiful, and perfect, and you didn't grow up as someone else's experiment. I wanted to be you, skating circles and laughing with Mike. I wanted to be _real._ And then I learned that you weren't this perfect idea of a person that I had, that you weren't happy just because you grew up in the real world, and it scared me even more because I still _like_ you. I like you so much, and it's not just because I'm jealous of you, it's because you're amazing."

When she was finished talking, the world was still spinning around them, and they might have still been in the void, or maybe they were standing in their own bedrooms, or ten feet underwater at Sattler Quarry, but they were _somewhere._ Max was now looking at her like they were everywhere, and that Jane was everything, and it all fit together perfectly in Jane's head, because she finally understood what Hopper meant when he said that loving someone was supposed to feel simple.

This was not simple— it was a goddamn mess— but it didn't feel like one. It felt just as wonderful and as confusing as it was to be alive.

"Jane," Max said, and her voice pulled them back from whatever state they had gone into, grounding them somewhere in all of the everywhere. "I want to kiss you."

"You can," Jane told her, honestly, and then she barely remembered to add, "Tomorrow, out of our heads."

Max nodded, numbly, and their grip on each other began to fade. Jane could feel herself slipping back to her own mind, and didn't try and force Max to stay with her. But she was fighting, just enough, so Max could reach out and say one last thing.

"I was jealous of you, too, you know. You always seemed so tough, like nothing could ever break you."

Jane smiled, feeling the last of Max's consciousness slip away. "I'm not as strong as everyone thinks I am."

"I know," Max's voice was faint, like a distance echo on a cave wall. "But that's part of what makes you so brave."

With that, the world went black, and Jane's eyes suddenly sprung open to the sight of her bedside table. She sat up, shaking and dripping with sweat, to see that her pillow was soaked with blood. 

Grumbling and getting weakly to her feet, Jane stumbled her way towards the bathroom, not giving a damn what time it was, and stepped into the blast of a cold, unforgiving shower. The entire time, she could not fight the smile that kept threatening to consume her entire face.

 

\---

 

Her first kiss with Max, the next morning, was rushed and excited. This was mostly due to the fact that Max had all but tackled Jane against a tree when she went to meet her a few yards away from the house. Max tasted like cinnamon, chocolate-chip pancakes, and peppermint toothpaste. Both of their smiles had gotten so wide after seeing one and other that it made the whole thing kind of a lopsided disaster, but it was still perfect, nonetheless.

"I've only ever kissed one person," Max said, pulling away, and Jane was dizzied by it, because she hadn't even said _hello_ yet. "But I was not attracted to him, at all, really, so how was that? If you didn't like it, I wouldn't be mad, because I'm pretty sure I'm a lot less experienced than you, because at least you were attracted to your ex."

"It was a little weird," Jane said, fondly. "But in a good way."

"That's great," Max laughed, her breath tickling against Jane's neck. "Because I want to do it again."

And so they did.

 

\---

 

The following Friday, the two girls went to Mike's house with a secure plan to keep their whole psychic meetings and secret kissing business on the down-low. Jane knew that she would tell Mike, one day, but she also knew that revealing her new relationship only three and a half weeks after breaking his heart would probably be a bad move.

As it turned out, they didn't stay at Mike's place for long, because as soon as Dustin showed up with the beer that Steve had bought for all of them, everyone was pooling into the back of Will's car.

Reunited, they all laughed, talked about Dungeons and Dragons, about high school and college, and Jane was just so happy to be surrounded by her friends again that she swung her arms around Lucas and Dustin's shoulders and never wanted to let go.

"It's been torture without you, El, honestly!" Dustin told her, as Will took the car off the main road, towards a clearing hidden by the hills. They had gotten drunk there accidentally, at least four times, and it had become their impromptu hiding place ever since. "Lucas would have had me making friendship bracelets! _Friendship bracelets._ We were in total chaos."

"There were no friendship bracelets," Lucas said defensively, "I did, in a moment of panic, suggest matching watches, but only because Mike looked like he was about to cry in the middle of the store!"

"I was not about to cry!" Mike snapped, evidently taking his turn to defend his masculinity. "It was just bumming me out, the store's selection was so just limited."

"It won't be like that in New York!" Dustin beamed, "There'll be entire stores dedicated to watches. And so many places to buy video games!"

"We'll also be trying not to flunk out of school!" Will chimed, from the driver's seat, "Because some of us are relying entirely on scholarships."

"Enough talk of finances and education! Tonight, we drink!" Dustin announced, and there was suddenly beer in his hands, like magic, and he was passing it around to everyone except Will, who was driving, and Jane, who did not drink.

She had tried alcohol, once, and had then proceeded to be the cause of a power outage that had lasted in Hawkins for as long as six hours. In short, it was much more amusing for Jane to just watch her friends get totally shitfaced, laughing from the sidelines where she would cause no electrical damage.

They soon reached their hiding spot, and after they all climbed out of Will's car to lie on the grass, they passed countless bags of potato chips and drinks around them, laughing until they couldn't think straight. At one point, Mike pulled out his campaign notes and started reading, with no one to interrupt his narrative for once, and they all leaned comfortably into the sound of his voice.

Eventually, someone remembered that Lucas had brought his portable stereo, and after sorting through Will's various mixtapes, the tiny round speakers were soon blasting _Under Pressure,_ and everyone was singing along.

An hour later, the sun went down as the last chords of _Bizarre Love Triangle_ were ringing out around them. Will pulled out some sparklers from the trunk of his car and it was kind of ridiculous how excited everyone got over them.

Jane watched her friends run through the field, sparklers at hand, screaming and laughing like they were still just kids. They were, in a way, but things had definitely changed since they had graduated. An emotional, protective urge rose up inside her, as she realized that these were the people that she would willingly die for. These were the people she had chosen as a home, and she loved them, all of them, and was happy that she had saved them. She was happy they had saved _her._

Max was was then throwing an arm around Jane's shoulders and pulling her in, towards the others, who were now dancing to their hearts content as the last of their sparklers fizzled out. Happy and weightless, Jane danced with Max, holding her hands and spinning the two of them around in circles, laughing until she was almost sick from it, not caring about anything else but her.

Somewhere in the middle of _Come on Eileen_ , Jane met Mike's gaze while she was still dancing with Max, and he had his own arm around Will's waist. Jane couldn't help smiling at him, because this was all so new, but he was still there, with her, and he was smiling right back.

_"Come on, Eileen too rye aye!"_

Jane tugged Max in Mike's direction, and she seemed to immediately understand, and eagerly went along with the plan.

_"Come on, Eileen too rye aye!"_

Mike was still smiling when they got to him, and then Will was grinning, too, and Jane took both of their hands and pulled them forwards, swaying on the balls of her feet.

All four of them danced, clumsily and awkwardly, but it was still absolutely incredible.

_"I say too ra loo ra, too ra-loo rye aye!"_

Dustin and Lucas jumped into their little square, and then everyone was grabbing onto each other, dancing wildly and without rhythm, screaming the words that they knew in completely different octaves. The only thing any of them had in common at that moment was that their voices were all filled with laughter, and that they loved each other more than anything else in the world.  


"Come on, Eileen!"  


"Oh I swear—"  


"What he means!"  


"At this moment, you mean everything!"

\---

Tipsy and teetering, Max hung off of Jane's arm for the rest of the night, and Jane let her. It was nice to see Max so unashamed and happy, and Jane had to admit, she felt great, being with her, even as they were surrounded by other people. If anything, she had realized that she didn't want to let that feeling ever disappear.  
When Will dropped the two of them off at Jane's house, well past midnight, Hopper only offered Jane a raised eyebrow before letting both her and Max inside. It occurred to Jane, suddenly, that Max had never really hung out at their place, before, and she took the few minutes while Max was in the bathroom to explain things to Hopper.

"I like Max," Jane said, bluntly. "And she likes me. We're dating, I think."

Hopper, who was standing with his hands on his hips in the living room, seemed to relax, at this. He looked, for a moment, like he had a million things to say to her, but in the end, he only raised his hand, and ruffled her hair.

"Good for you, kiddo."

"Yeah," Jane grinned up at him, "Good for me."

 

\---

 

Around six, the next morning, Jane left her spot on the couch to bring Max some water and aspirin. She was rewarded for her kindness with a sleepy kiss, rank with awful breath, but still, in it's own way, utterly perfect.

Sitting on the floor next to her own bed, Jane watched Max swallow the pill and waited, until she was certain she was not going to choke, before making her suggestion.

"I think I should go with you."

"Go with me?" Max raised an eyebrow, "Like, _go out_ with me?"

Jane smiled, shaking her head. "More like go with you to California."

If she had been drowsy before, Max was completely awake, now, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open. 

Worried that she had freaked her out, Jane hurriedly added, "Is that okay?" Just as Max squeaked, "Really?"

"Yes," Jane crawled closer, so that she could hold Max's hand properly. "Really."

"You want to stay with me?" Max whispered, as if she couldn't believe it.

"I do," Jane replied, and then she was climbing up on the bed. "I want to be with you, and I've always wondered what it would be like. Living outside of Hawkins."

"If you're serious," Max said, squinting. "Then I'd be so, so happy. Ridiculously happy. Jane, I might die."

"Don't die," Jane whispered, and then, for good measure, she clarified, "I'm serious."

"Okay, I believe you."Max smiled, and it was the most amazing, wonderful thing Jane had ever seen. "You're going to love the Pacific Ocean."

"You can teach me to surf," Jane teased, and just like that, they were kissing again, and neither of them could have cared less about morning breath.

 

\---

 

"You call me," Hopper reminded Jane for the umpteenth time, "As soon as you stop for gas, you find a payphone, and you call me."

Jane nodded, watching him heave the last of her suitcases into the back of Max's chevy. She had never realized she had so much stuff until it was all being packed away.

"I'll call, I promise."

"You better," he said warningly, and he turned around to to look at her. "And you'll be back for Thanksgiving?"

"Chief, I promise, I'll have her home at a decent time." Max rolled her eyes, sauntering up from behind him. She had a considerably less emotional farewell with her own family, and Jane knew she was only teasing Hopper to prolong the inevitable breakdown that was coming their way.

"We'll be back," Jane promised, firmly, and she was oddly touched when Hopper gave Max one of his rarer, genuine smiles over his shoulder.

It had taken a few hours to convince him that this was what she really wanted, and once he had realized she was determined to do this one way or the other, Hopper had offered the two of them nothing but support during their last few weeks in Hawkins. Jane was grateful for his patience and understanding, and she knew that Max was, too.

The guys had left for New York a little less than a week ago. Jane and Max had sent them off with a party that they would never forget, complete with boardgames, booze, and a lot of crying that everyone pretended not to see.

It had not gone unnoticed by Jane that Mike and Will seemed much more comfortable around each other, in the days just before they left. Out of curiosity, she looked for them, one night, in the void, and caught the two holding hands. They were reading comic books in Will's room, and Jane was happy for them. She truly was.

Hopper was stepping towards her, and Jane felt the weight of all the goodbyes she'd had in the past week, and it was suddenly too much. She all but collapsed into his outstretched arms, trying desperately not to soak what was one of his nicer shirts with tears. Jane had actually packed a few of Hopper's flannel shirts, secretly, because she wasn't sure she could handle being away from the smell of him, and the home they had shared together for nearly seven years. Plus, they looked good on her, and she wanted to remind herself of him when she looked in the mirror.

Because he may not have been her father, but he was her definitely her _Dad._

"Don't do anything stupid," Jane whispered into his chest, and it was her way of telling him that she loved him.

"Hey," Hopper muttered, his voice a little hoarse. "We're not stupid."  
Which was was his way of telling her that he he loved her, too.

When they eventually let go of each other, Hopper brushed the stray hairs off of Jane's forehead before giving up and ruffling her whole head like he always did. Jane laughed, leaning into his touch, and seeing the tears in his eyes she couldn't stop herself from hugging him again.

This was the man who had left her plastic-wrapped Eggos in the woods. Who had given her a home, and had protected her until he could legally give her his name, and let her live a life that wasn't a series of trials and tears for people who didn't care whether she lived or died. This was the man who had stood at her side, holding her hand, while she faced a hivemind of monsters from another world. This was the man who had bought her her first vial of nail polish, and had let her practice on his hands, over and over again, so they were always matching colours.

As complicated as everything had ever been, Hopper had been there, ready to help her back to her feet whenever she got knocked down.

"Don't be stupid," Jane said again, because she really did love him.

"You, too." Hopper scoffed, and he ruffled her hair more gently, this time.

Somehow, Jane managed to get in the car, and Max didn't say anything about the tears, or the way Jane kept her head hanging out the window, or how she was still waving goodbye long after Hopper was out of sight.

When they finally got past the town limits, and Hawkins was officially behind them, Jane managed to push all of her bittersweet feelings aside, and leaned into her own excitement.

"We're really going," Max said, breathlessly. "You're really with me."

"I'm really with you." Jane laughed, and she put her hand on Max's knee, because it felt like the right thing to do.

Max peeked at Jane from the corner of her eye, her cheeks rosy and her smile soft. "Tell me, what's the first thing you want to experience out on the open road?"

Jane thought about it for a moment, and then it came to her like the most obvious thing in the world.

"A Waffle House."

"Oh my god," Max laughed, and everything about this was wonderful. "I promise, I'll take you to the first Waffle House we see."

They did find one, the next morning, after spending the night in a dingy little motel room in Montana. They split a stack of waffles that was nearly as tall as they were, and it was hard not to kiss Max, then, in the middle of a public restaurant, with crumbs and syrup all over her face. Jane had to wait until later, when it was nearly two in the morning in New Mexico, and they were at a considerably nicer motel, and lying in their considerably more comfortable bed.

"Tell me about the ocean," Jane made this request as she curled into Max's side, feeling like she had discovered the secrets to the entire universe. 

She thought about Nancy and Jonathan, and how they had been happy enough to just to feel each other breathe. Jane had never understood that, until now. When Max smiled at her, Jane leaned forward, resting her hand on Max's chest so she could feel the steady rhythm of her heart.

Max closed her eyes, "What do you want to know?"

Alone together, close and unguarded in their private corner of the world, Jane laughed. She had never thought that she would share this with someone, the endless void inside her, but here Max was, in her heart and in her head, and Jane had never been so sure of anything in her entire life.

"Everything," she answered, and it was exactly what this was, this infinity that existed between them. _Everything._


End file.
